Читать «The Help / Прислуга. Книга для чтения на английском языке» онлайн - страница 23

“You know, I only left Miss Walters cause she going up to the rest home. She didn’t fire me.”

But she just stares down at her bare feet, black-soled because her floors haven’t been scrubbed since she moved in this big old dirty house. And it’s clear, this lady doesn’t want me.

“Well,” she says, “I appreciate you driving all this way. Can I at least give you some money for the gas?”

I pick up my pocketbook and thrust it up under my armpit. She gives me a cheery smile I could wipe off with one swat. Damn that Hilly Holbrook.

“No ma’am, no, you cannot.”

“I knew it was gonna be a chore finding someone, but…” I stand there listening to her acting all sorry but I just think, Get it over with, lady, so I can tell Leroy we got to move all the way to the North Pole next to Santy Claus where nobody’s heard Hilly’s lies about me.

“…and if I were you I wouldn’t want to clean this big house either.”

I look at her square on. Now that’s just excusing herself a little too much, pretending Minny ain’t getting the job cause Minny don’t want the job.

“When you hear me say I don’t want a clean this house?”

“It’s alright, five maids have already told me it’s too much work.”

I look down at my hundred-and-sixty-five-pound, five-foot-zero self practically busting out of my uniform. “Too much for me?”

She blinks at me a second. “You… you’ll do it?”

“Why you think I drove all the way out here to kingdom come, just to burn gas?” I clamp my mouth shut. Don’t go ruirning this now, she offering you a jay-o-bee. “Miss Celia, I be happy to work for you.”

She laughs and the crazy woman goes to hug me, but I step back a little, let her know that’s not the kind of thing I do.

“Hang on now, we got to talk about some things first. You got to tell me what days you want me here and… and that kind a thing.” Like how much you paying.

“I guess… whenever you feel like coming,” she says.

“For Miss Walters I work Sunday through Friday.”

Miss Celia chews some more on her pink pinky-nail. “You can’t come here on weekends.”

“Alright.” I need the days, but maybe later on she’ll let me do some party serving or whatnot. “Monday through Friday then. Now, what time you want me here in the morning?”

“What time do you want to come in?”

I’ve never had this choice before. I feel my eyes narrow up. “How bout eight. That’s when Miss Walters used to get me in.”

“Alright, eight’s real good.” Then she stands there like she’s waiting for my next checker move.

“Now you supposed to tell me what time I got to leave.”

“What time?” asks Celia.

I roll my eyes at her. “Miss Celia, you supposed to tell me that. That’s the way it works.”

She swallows, like she’s trying real hard to get this down. I just want to get through this before she changes her mind about me.

“How bout four o’clock?” I say. “I work eight to four and I gets some time for lunch or what-have-you.”

“That’s just fine.”

“Now… we got to talk bout pay,” I say and my toes start wriggling in my shoes. It must not be much if five maids already said no.

Neither one of us says anything.